Bend It Like Beckett
by holadios
Summary: While writing a love scene for his latest Nikki Heat novel, Castle falls into the trap of the inevitable Freudian slip. Set season three-ish. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Most unfortunately.

**A/N:** The title came to me first and it simply screamed story. The rating is for what you see of Castle's written sex scenes. I admit I have not read the books, though I have heard Nathan and Stana read the sex scene in "Nikki Heat" and it's hilarious. A must-see if you haven't yet. I based my interpretation of Castle writing sex scenes on my experiences with bad fanfiction love scenes and trashy romance novels, in case you cared.

Much gratitude for Melissa, who beta'd this story, and who set me back on the right track when I accidentally derailed. Brains and porcupines forever!

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><p><em>Her breath came in shuddering gasps as he trailed kisses down her stomach. Beneath his strong, warm hands, every inch of her body quivered with anticipation. Their eyes locked and she saw the crooked smirk playing across Rook's features. She lifted her head and met his firm mouth, her tongue snaking out to – <em>

"Dad?"

"Alexis!" Castle fumbled with his laptop, frantically minimizing the word document and shutting off the screen. "I didn't see you there."

"Sorry," she said. "Gram just told me to tell you that breakfast is ready, the juice has been freshly squeezed, and everything, so you better – and these are her words not mine – 'get your mind off Beckett's buttocks and your behind to the breakfast table.'"

"Sorry, dear," he replied. "I was with Nikki. Caught up in the moment."

Alexis raised her eyebrows. She obviously hadn't missed his flustered expression. "Sex scene? That's what you didn't want me to see when I came in?" When Castle didn't respond, she pointed out, "You know I'll just read it when the book comes out, right? One of those things about you being a published author and all."

"I'm aware," he said, "but I'd like to preserve your purity of mind for as long as possible."

"Alexis!" Martha's loud voice filled the room. "Where have you gone off to? Your breakfast is going cold!"

She grimaced at Castle. "I have to go." As she turned around, she called over her shoulder, "You should come, too."

"When I'm done," he replied absently. He had already turned his attention back to the word document on his screen.

…_her tongue snaking out to lick his pink lips. She grazed his bottom lip gently with her teeth, smirking with satisfaction when he gave a soft groan of anticipation. Slowly they fell upon the bed, moving together, as they became one, and Beckett - _

Castle froze. For a moment, he sat in stunned silence as he reread the last word on the screen. Then he hurriedly deleted it, clicking the backspace key seven times, deleting each traitorous letter individually. Then he minimized the document again, closed his eyes, and leaned back in his chair, wanting to put as much space between himself and his telltale slip.

This had never happened to him before. He knew writers always put pieces of themselves into their work, and he obviously had created Nikki to be the fictionalized Beckett, but he had never wanted to…blur the line between fiction and reality. Writing was supposed to be about his imagination, not his fantasies. He squirmed uncomfortably. Admitting that was admitting he had fantasies about Beckett, and that was something he didn't really want to admit to anyone…

He rubbed his eyes with his hands and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was just a small slip, wasn't it? Nothing to be worried about. It was perfectly natural that it would happen at least once. She was his muse after all, his vision for the character. They were kind of like the same person, weren't they?

Who was he kidding?

"What the hell am I saying?" he wondered aloud. He opened the word document again and carefully typed "Nikki" where Beckett's name had once been. "Nikki, not Beckett. Nikki, not Beckett." He figured if he just repeated that to himself enough times he would get it through his head.

And he could do with some food.

When he arrived in the kitchen, he saw Alexis had nearly finished with her breakfast and was making herself a cup of coffee. He took a deep breath to steady himself, determined to hide his mistake from his family. Martha eyed him suspiciously as he approached them.

"Morning, Mother," he said carefully.

"Morning, darling. Done fantasizing about Beckett?"

Castle choked on the sip of orange juice he had just taken. "Wha – what?" he spluttered through fits of coughing.

"Oh, don't be silly," Martha said impatiently. "Everyone's been talking about those spicy sex scenes of yours. And the basis of any good sex scene is an even better fantasy."

"Mother," he said sternly, glancing at Alexis, "are you sure this is appropriate breakfast conversation?"

"Come now, dear, Alexis is a grown woman. She can handle this conversation."

"Yeah, Dad," Alexis added. "Like I said, I'll read about it eventually anyway."

"I remember," Castle said grudgingly as he took another sip of juice. "Besides, who said anything about writing sex scenes this morning?"

"Oh, just Alexis' girlish expression as she came back from telling you breakfast was ready," Martha answered.

"I see." Castle could feel a blush creeping up his neck and cheeks.

"Nothing to be embarrassed about," said Martha, noticing this. "There is nothing wrong with a good fantasy every now and then. Just as long as you don't slip up and call Nikki by the wrong name-" Castle almost choked on his juice again, but forced himself to keep an even expression. "—you should be fine, and no one will ever know the difference."

"I'll, uh, try to keep that in mind."

"I knew it!" Alexis exclaimed suddenly. "You messed up, didn't you? That's why you came up here looking so frazzled."

"What – no!" he defended quickly. "I came up because I was hungry and your grandmother said breakfast was ready. The muse, you know, it requires food to properly function, and running on an empty stomach is never a good idea."

"Oh no, oh no, no, no!" Martha said dramatically. "You had a Freudian slip, am I right? Oh, Richard!" When he averted her eyes and didn't say anything, she said, "Just admit it, darling. You were always a horrible liar."

"Mother, Alexis," he began slowly, "I will admit to no such thing. I am an accomplished and prolific writer. I have published twenty-six novels to date, and have more on the way. I have had many protagonists. Nikki Heat is nothing more than another one, even if she is based on a real person. I can keep them both separate, thank you very much." He glared at them. "Satisfied?"

For a moment, both were silent. They glanced at each other and then back at him. Alexis' face broke into a grin, though Martha was the first to speak.

"You're lying."

"Definitely," Alexis agreed.

"I'm not!" he protested. "Really, I-"

He was saved by the shrill ring of his cell phone. He whipped it out of his pocket. "Ah, Beckett! She'll save me from this interrogation!" he exclaimed as he opened the phone. He hung up a minute later, after jotting down the address of the latest crime scene.

"And I'm off," he told them. "I'll say hello to Beckett for you."

"Please do," Martha said. He noticed she was still smirking.

"I'm not lying," he insisted. No one bothered to respond this time.

Who was he kidding anyway?

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><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for reading. I hope you'll review if you enjoyed!


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